Wednesday, January 31, 2007

Sing, O goddess, the rage of Achilles son of Peleus, that brought countless ills upon the Achaeans.

For some reason a memory popped into my mind, and I never want to forget this one, so I'm entrusting it to these servers, owned by Google, and also to the minds of all of you that read this. So if you're listening, Google, and also all of you readers, when I'm old and senile tell me this story and I'll laugh at myself a lot:

I was in the IHOP on Green Street in Champaign, probably with my dad, because most times I'm in an IHOP I'm with him. In the booth across the aisle there was a father with a few young kids. At least two, maybe three. They were drawing on the backs of their placemats with IHOP-provided crayons and one of them wanted the crayon a particular color that one of the others had. If there was a third kid, the third kid was completely uninterested in the whole ordeal and was staring into space. Anyhow, the dad tried to teach the kids that the kid that wanted that particular crayon valued it more highly because it was scarce, and the kid with the crayon valued it more highly because it was in demand.

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